The Untold Secret
by MyDestielHeart67
Summary: Dean Winchester and Steve Novak had been friends for a while, now. They were both bartenders at a local bar. Everything was going great for them, until something very strange happened. The two friends try to discover their feelings for one another. Meanwhile, Dean discovers Steve's big secret. Fiction M. Non-canon.
1. The Mansion

Dean Winchester was a bartender. _Yes,_ he got to cruise the hot chicks, but he still hated it. He barely had any time for himself. What he missed the most was spending time with his brother Sam. Now, Sam also had a job. Sam was a lawyer. Serving hot ladiesdrinks isn't as fun as you'd expect. Dean lived in a crappy condo in the middle of the city. Dean _hated_ his job. _Hated_ his life. All the pressure the clients and the boss put on his shoulders… it was too much for Dean to handle. Unfortunately, that was the only job he could afford and get. He didn't get a proper scholarship, unlike his little brother—he had quit _everything_ for their family business. Everything for their father's quest. Whereas, Sam never gave up on his normal fucking life. That's where Dean screwed up real hard. When their father died, he had _no one_ left. Sam had abandoned him, and was happily living with his wife Jessica. He had nothing—no one to live for.

That was, of course, until something completely amazing happened to him.

It happened on a casual weekend morning, when all the day-drunks usually came in. Dean's shift was almost over when he spotted a beautiful redheaded girl walk in the bar. She winked at him. obviously noticing him. He smiled at her as she sat down on a barstool, right in front of him. She was hot…extremely hot. Like–the pornstar kind of hot.  
Maybe even a little more.

"Hey..." she directly said as soon as he turned to her. She was looking for a badge on his chest. "Dean," she said flirtatiously immediately after she spotted the badge. "Hot name," the strange girl winked again. Girls weren't really Dean's 'thing', but he could make an exception, right? He wasn't the flirting kind of guy, but what if he changed? That would be awesome. He surely _was_ attractive, huh? So why not just... forget about being shy and talk to her? Flirt with her? A grin appeared on his face.

"I'm Alicia," she said with an attractive smile on her face.

"That's a–um–hot name, too," Dean blurted out.

She smirked at Dean. He looked innocent and harmless.

"What would you ant to drink, Alicia?" he asked her nervously.

"You," Alicia mouthed soundlessly, grinning wickedly.

Dean swallowed thickly, looking up at her. He was uncertain of what to do next.

Her lip curled into a smile, her head tilting to the side. She put her hand on his arm, biting her lower lip. Her curly ginger hair-locks were bumping on her shoulders as she eyed him, just like she wanted him really, really badly inside of her.

She probably _did_, though.

And Dean wasn't even trying! She was the one passing dirty comments and flirting around. He wasn't even returning the favor.

Since the two years he had been working in the bar, he had never got laid with a costumer. It was actually against the rules. Who cared about the _rules?_Why should Dean care? He wasn't a troublemaker, sure, but breaking **one** rule wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?

What Dean didn't know was that it might hurt a special somebody.

Although the girl wasn't there to drink, she was there to get in Dean's pants, Dean didn't care. He could make an exception this one time. Lots of girl came in and talked to him, desperate for sex. But this desperate girl was more, in some weird way she was special. She was inhumanly hot.

"Well, I guess I could..." Dean's heart pounded. "My shift's about to end, so...we could..."

Dean decided to change his attitude and behavior completely. He ignored his old self—this was his new self, now.

He was way turned on to wait another second. He gulped, and nodded. "All right, what the fuck. Let's just go." The man smiled uneasily and walked over the service counter swinging door.

"Hey, **Steve**!" Dean shouted to the man in the kitchen. "I'm leaving. Get your ass over here to serve the waiting clients."

The girl didn't seem to care one bit about his rudeness over his colleague.

Steve didn't answer, but did Dean give a damn? There was a beautiful, well-portioned breasted girl at his side, waiting to sleep with him, so no. Steve was his friend, of course, but the girl was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

He hooked his arm in the girl's and walked to the door.

"My place or yours?" the arrogant bartender asked without a slight hint of hesitation or doubt.

"Either is fine..." Alicia whispered in his ear, giggling.

Her words echoed in Dean's brain.

"Let's go to mine, now," he grinned, walking unsteadily.

Alright, _maybe_ he had taken a _tinesy_bit of alcohol this morning...but whatever.

Alicia was leaning into Dean as they walked out of the bar together.

"How old are you, Dean?" she asked, touching his chest, running his hand up and down.

"Does it really matter?" he winked teasingly.

"Oh, _come on_," said Alicia, whiningly.

Dean rolled his eyes on the inside. "I'm thirty-six," he admitted to the girl.

She grimaced. "Oh, come on," she repeated, laughing this time. But when she saw Dean's face was totally serious and not joking, she stepped back. "Ew. Good-bye, perv."

Alicia started walking away, her hips moving.

Dean sighed. Was being thirty-six _that_ bad? He looked young... he looked like he could be twenty. So why did the girl care?

"Oh, seriously. Just... come back..." he looked at her and he frowned. "Um...I was kidding?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Un-_believable_. I was flirting with an old man," she flipped her hair, talking to herself.

Dean snorted as he got back inside the bar. He had been impolite to his friend for nothing. Steve really deserved an apology, then.

Steve was at the bar, busy—really busy—serving clients.

"Hey, Dean," Steve waved at Dean, his hands nearly full. "A little help over here?" he smiled unsurely.

Dean exhaled loudly, walking over to his friend.

"You didn't keep that hot girl cruising you?" Steve said on a teasing tone, his piercing blue eyes narrowing with challenge.

Dean scoffed. "Yes, well... when she learned how old I actually was, she ridiculously ran off. It's like... my charm isn't as important as my age."

Steve chuckled. "That girl was a total bitch. Forget about her. You look _fabulous_, Dean. Age doesn't matter."

They glared at each other got something that felt like an hour to Steve. At the end, Dean smiled. "Thank you, buddy."

Great. Now he was calling him _buddy_. What was he thinking? Having a crush on his colleague was so stupid. He needed to tell Steve about it. It was too hard to ignore.

_God_, Steve's angelic baby blue eyes were just... hypnotizing.

Dean kindly and playfully hit Steve's shoulder. He didn't know what else to do.

Steve faked a smile, and looked away awkwardly. It was obvious his smile was forced.

"Ed's shift is about to start," Steve started. "do you want to get a coffee while we're both free?" he suggested.

Dean looked at his watch. For some unknown reason, his hands were shaking.

"Um, yeah..." Dean nodded nervously. "Sure."

Steve smiled uneasily at the taller man. "Good, then. Let's go now."

"My car or yours?" Dean asked the blue-eyed bartender, hoping he'd accept using the Impala.

"The Impala, _obviously_. It's better than the junk _I_ have as a car," Steve scoffed.

"The Impala it is," Dean shrugged, trying not to make it look like a huge deal. He walked out of the bar besides his friend.

"You really don't talk much, do you?" Dean decided to ask as they both headed to the beautiful car parked cautiously in the deserted parking lot between the bar and a barber shop.

"Well, I'm the one who invited you for a coffee, so..." Steve trailed off.

Dean chuckled. "Relax, buddy. I was kidding," he winked.

_Damn_, he thought, _I_do_use 'buddy'_ _a lot when it comes to talking to Steve._

Dean opened the passenger side door for Steve, politely, and walked over to the driver side. He unlocked the door as well, walking inside the beautiful collection car. Steve sat on the seat next to Dean after him, rubbing his hands together. It was quite cold, and inside the Impala, the temperature was even worse.

The coldness of the bench was freezing Steve and Dean's asses.

Dean closed his door and inserted the keys in the ignition. The car started, warm air ventilating.

"Do you like rock, Steve?" Dean carefully asked, unsure of Steve's likes and dislikes. Steve was uncertain if liking rock was a good thing or a bad thing—he didn't want to piss Dean off. If he said the wrong thing, the poor guy might hate him forever. "Erm, yes–yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

Dean shrugged innocently. "Just like that," he pressed on the 'play' button of the music player and a Kansas song started played. Steve smiled, humming lightly along. Dean smirked, pressing his elbow on the windowsill as he drove away towards the nearest local coffee shop. The car was already warmed up after a few minutes, despite the snow and the cold weather outside. The sun was slowly rising up. When they got to the café, Dean parked and stopped the car quickly. They both got out immediately. Dean smiled to himself, saying, "God, this is awkward," he complained. "you should tell me more about yourself, Steve. It's been, like... two weeks we know each other—well, _you_know me. I don't know _you_, though."

Steve chuckled, a glum then showing on his lips. "You know everything about me. My life isn't that interesting, you know—,"

"I know _nothing_ about you, Stevey. Family, financial situation, siblings, history..." Dean tilted his head.

"I'm a thirty-four years old man, I'm still a virgin—,"

"You're _still_ a virgin?" Dean interrupted again.

"Yes, Dean. I'm waiting for the right person to do it with... unlike _you,_I?m not some sort of... man-whore. I don't sleep with everyone I make eye-contact with," Steve explained, happy Dean didn't cut him again.

"I don't sleep with everyone I make—," Dean started, a little insulted.

"No offense, of course," Steve added with a malicious smile, glad _he_ was the one interrupting Dean this time.

Dean smirked as he locked the doors of the car. "None taken," he said as he turned around. They walked towards the coffee shop silently, and Dean was playing with the car keys.

"Oh, you didn't tell me earlier. Do you have any siblings?" Dean broke the strange silence as the two men stepped inside the café.

"I–yes. I have a brother, Gabriel," said Steve. Telling Dean the whole story would be too much, just talking about Steve's favorite brother would be absolutely fine. It wasn't like Dea was religious enough to link the name to the archangel Gabriel. But, maybe if Steve had told Dean his real name, he would have guessed. Who knows? What actually _did_ he know about Dean? Not that much, actually. Dean was so secretive...

Steve turned his head to face Dean's, shaking himself out of his daydream. "What about you? Have a sis?" he smirked. "or a bro?"

"I've got a younger brother named Sam," Dean explained.

They found a booth and sat down, face-to-face. When the waitress arrived at Dean and Steve's table, they both ordered a coffee.


	2. Sexual Tension

When the coffees arrived, Steve sipped his.

It was actually quite funny—it was like watching a small kid taste alcohol. He winced, but pretended to like it anyways, since he didn't want to be different from Dean.

It was as if he had _never_ tasted coffee before. But they had fun anyhow. They talked, for hours, even. They laughed and discussed about their brothers, and family. Dean talked about the fact that he was an orphan, and that Sam was his only family left. He was the reason he lived. He talked about the fact that Sam was now gone, and had left Dean totally alone.

When the café was about the close, they stood up. Neither of them seemed thrilled that they were done talking. Dean wanted to talk with Steve forever. He knew he had to stop at one point, but he hoped that moment was in years.

"If you, um..." Steve started, way more confident than he had been before. "If you want to keep talking, maybe we could go over to my place. We'll have to be quiet, though... Gabriel's probably sleeping, now," Steve checked his watch, before resting his eyes upon the other man's beautiful, emerald green eyes.

Dean nodded, a smile shown on his lips. "Of course. It's not like I've got somethin' better to do," he winked.

"Great!" Steve exclaimed, sounding more excited than he wanted to. "Let's just go now, shall we?" he raised an eyebrow, trying to look somewhere else than Dean's eyes. They were just... hypnotizing. Steve couldn't take that much emotions.

Dean stayed silent, just nodding as a response. They both stepped out of the coffee shop, smiling to themselves. Dean looked over to Steve, keeping the same innocent and satisfied grin on his face. And then, they got back inside the car.

Dean inserted Steve's house in the GPS, wondering how the house looked like. It was probably some junk apartment, or a very, _very_ small bungalow. Looking at Steve's clothes, he was obviously living in a small and condensed place.

After a few minutes, they were in front of Steve's house... it wasn't actually a house. It was a _mansion_. _A huge mansion._

Dean's eyes widened, and he immediately stopped the car. If he hadn't done so, he would have probably bumped the car into something out of shock.

"Damn..." the Winchester gasped, stunned.

"Gabe likes to live in fancy houses," Steve explained. "and he's really, really picky," he grimaced, obviously shy as he saw Dean's reaction.

"This place is—how...? What..." Dean interrupted himself with a wide grin. "It's amazing! Jesus, I never knew you lived in a fucking castle!" he turned to face Steve.

Steve smiled bashfully. "Well, I—,"

"Do you have a dungeon?"

"I—,"

"You do, don't you? Oh, my God! It's just... per–_fect_!" Dean gaped.

The smaller man cleared his throat. "Um—,"

Dean grinned. "Let's just go in, okay?" he stopped the car and stepped outside, still admiring the huge manor.

Steve exhaled loudly, finding Dean a tiny bit too intense. "'f course," he nodded quickly, getting out as well. Steve ran his hand on the windowsill of the 1967 Chevrolet Impala, walking towards the entrance. There was a fancy fountain in the front yard, and lights to show the gravel path. At the entryway was a double door and large and slender columns besides the high doors. Dean was still smiling cutely when Steve took his house keys and unlocked one of the doors. He still couldn't believe it was actually _his_ house. How could it be? The house was magnificent! Well, not that _Steve_ wasn't magnificent, but he didn't look like the type of guy who'd live in a castle.

Steve opened the door and it revealed an enormous hall. It was dark, and so Steve turned on the lights. The room brightened up and the Novak opened the wardrobe. He took his shoes and socks off, and so did Dean—although he kept the socks on, he found walking barefoot in an other house than _his_ weird. He wasn't a germaphobe, but _still_. The idea of rubbing your feet on the wooden floors of another person's house... _ugh._

After that, they took their coats off. Steve hanged them on the hooks, and turned back to the other man. He opened the next door. That one led to a long and wide hallway, with a few doors on the sides. They walked along the corridor, and Steve opened _another_ door. He looked like he knew every corner of this house by heart. It led to a huge room with a very high ceiling. It was the living room. Dean looked around, gazing. Every inch of the place was beautiful, and perfect. He was sure that even if he wanted to find a flaw, he wouldn't. There were a few windows, and royal blue velvet curtains falling in front of them.

"Gabriel's bedroom is on the second floor. He _might_ hear us if we don't whisper, and he hates to be disturbed. He gets angry whenever he sees I bring someone in here. We shouldn't talk too loud," Steve murmured to Dean.

Dean looked as if he had ignored Steve's comment. He kept roaming around the room, touching every fancy feature the house had.

After a few 'wow's, Dean calmed down and sat on the couch, besides Steve. They started talking, and Dean's eyes were suspended on each word the other man said. Steve wasn't that interesting, but he could be if he wanted to. They discussed, and laughed a bit, but they tried to stay calm. After an hour or so, it had become really calm between the two men. Dean looked over, to stare in Steve's blue eyes. He was about to say it... but then Steve said something. Dean wasn't concentrated on his words anymore, all he could see was his eyes, and his lips. Oh, his beautiful eyes. And his pink lips... all Dean wanted was to...

Steve narrowed his eyes. "...ean? Dean? Did you hear me?"

Dean shook himself out of his daydreaming, and looked up at the man. "Um, sorry, no. Can you repeat?"

"Where do you want to sleep? We've got plenty of guest rooms on the upper floo—,"

"It's gonna be fine on the couch, thanks," Dean's mouth curled into a smile.

Steve, in reality, did not want Dean on the couch. If Dean was on the couch, it would mean that Gabriel would notice the stranger, just awkwardly lying there with a blanket in their own living room. "Are you—are you sure?" he lifted an eyebrow quizzically.

"I am... thanks for the concern. A couch is just as good as an actual bed," Dean smiled.

Steve sighed. "Very well... I'll be off to bed, soon. It's getting late..." Steve smiled.

"Oh, c'mon, buddy. We could open a bottle of scotch, and talk until sunrise. Enjoy life. Enjoy living." The real reason Dean was pushing Steve to drink was that maybe if he was just a _little_ drunk, they'd have some fun. Not that Dean wanted to use Steve, but this could be an opportunity.

Steve blushed, and sat back next to Dean. "Very well... fine..."

Dean chuckled, and looked around. "You must have alcohol here, hmm?"

Steve nodded. "We do, I'll get a bottle of scotch. I'll be right back," he said before he stepped up, and walked away. Dean crossed his legs, looking at the ceiling, and thinking about all the weird stuff that has happened on this very night.

About thirty seconds later, Steve came back, silently. He sat in front of Dean, two glasses in his hands. He opened the bottle of alcohol and poured the liquid in the glasses.

"So, how old is Gabriel?" Dean asked Steve with curiosity.

"Gabe? He's..." Steve stopped himself to think. How old _could_ Gabriel look like? If he said the wrong number, Dean would maybe discover... oh, God. _No_. "...he's t–twenty-nine."

Dean's lips pursed. Steve thought it was out of suspicion, but who knew? "So he's twenty-nine? Isn't he, like, out celebrating or something? At this time, he should be..."

Steve, feeling targeted, cleared his throat, trying to make something up. "He–he just.. doesn't–he's not like that. He prefers tranquility."

"I see, hmm," Dean nodded, reaching for his glass. Steve handed it to him with a nervous smile. "Thank you," Dean said, winking and sipping the drink.

Steve lifted his glass up, smiling. "Cheers," said the man before gulping a somewhat large sip.

"Cheers," Dean repeated politely, but with a hint of flirtation in his voice.

The bartenders drank quietly, until Dean asked Steve one question to stop the awkwardness ruling the living room. It was a bit quiet, and talking wouldn't hurt, right?

"So your brother—Gabriel. Doesn't he, like, have a girlfriend or something?"

"More like something… Gabe is gay," Steve explained after sipping his scotch. "But he broke up with his boyfriend last week," he quickly added before Dean could even say a word.

Dean listened. By the look on his face, Steve could tell he wasn't against homosexuals. Steve was pretty relieved to see that, since he had lately discovered his true feelings for the man. Obviously, Steve wasn't going to tell Dean now, probably never if he was too shy to ever do it.

"Oh, I see," Dean nodded uneasily.

"I'm sorry, is something bothering you?" Steve whispered.

"No, I just… I'm sorry for your brother," he quickly replied.

Steve smiled comfortably. "It's his life. And you don't have to be sorry. Gabriel broke up with James because he cheated on him. _Gabe_ cheated, not James. Things weren't really working out these past days."

"Oh...your brother cheated? That's just–wow."

"But he's a really nice guy, I can assure you. Usually, he keeps his promises. I always kind of admired him," Steve admitted, saying these words slowly and truthfully.

"Talking about me, I hear," said a voice coming from above. A quite hot and well-shaped man was standing up the stairs.

Steve gulped and turned around to see him clearly.

So _that_ was Gabriel.

"I'm Gabriel...but I assume you already knew that, since sweet Ca–," Gabriel stopped himself teasingly. "Steve told you." Dean noticed Gabriel's slight hesitation on Steve's name, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"But of course, you can call me Gabe. _You_," he gestured towards Dean, "must be Dean Oh yeah, Steve told me all about you, dude."

Gabriel sounded like one of these parents whom wanted to humiliate their children on purpose. He _could _have been Steve's father, considering Steve's looks, but of course, Gabriel looked young, really young.

Although, Gabriel looked anything but gay. He looked super manly to Dean. Dean turned back to Steve and saw the man's cheeks turning pink in timidity.

"Ya' don't have to be afraid, little bro. Dean looks pretty nice," Gabriel winked.

Just now, Dean realized Steve hadn't said anything since Gabriel had first arrived here—or since they _discovered_ Gabe was standing there. Who knew? He could have been there for hours, Dean hadn't looked there. They must have fought or something. But why, then, did Steve talk about Gabe? If he hated him, now, why would he talk positively about him?

Gabe laughed at their reactions. "Relax, guys. I won't be bothering you," he glanced at the bottle of scotch and half-smiled, "I was just heading out... but it was nice meeting you," Gabe winked playfully at Dean, and started to walk out of the living room.

"Nice meeting you too," Dean said, loudly and quickly before Gabriel left. Strangely, Dean kind of liked Gabriel. He was quite... likable. There was something about him that made Dean attracted to him. Maybe he had been kind of teasing and rude, but not mean. He had been okay, he was just playing around. But he knew there was something wrong between Steve and Gabriel, so he knew it was better not to bring him up too often.

Gabriel grabbed the leather coat on the table by the door and turned back to the two petrified men. "Ciao," he grinned.

And then he left.

Dean glared at the closed door Gabriel exited from for a moment, amazed at the guy's guts. He turned back to Steve quietly, and looked in his eyes.

"So your brother, huh."

"Yes, he can be pretty intense..." Steve faked a smile.

"He's not that bad, really," Dean shrugged his shoulders.

They were alone, he noticed. Now, they were truly alone. The tension between the two grew stronger.

There was not a sound in the house, only them two talking. Steve didn't seem to have a dog or any sort of pet.

"You talked about me to him? That's just sweet," he playfully winked at Steve. It wasn't just sweet. It was... well it was great. It meant Steve didn't just think Dean was some stupid guy he hang out with. It meant Dean meant something to Steve.

Steve's cheeks were still scarlet red from Gabriel's comment, but now it just grew more red. "Well, I...I–you're my friend, of course I'd talk about you."

Dean smiled, playing with his empty glass. Maybe it was for the best that he'd change subjects. Especially to Steve's cheeks. "He doesn't look so upset 'bout the breakup."

"Gabriel is a very strong person. And very brave," Steve added.

A silence took place in the echoing room.

Steve looked sort of upset. Dean tilted his head. "You know... James was about to ask Gabe to marry him," Steve murmured, "he told me to keep it a secret. But when Gabriel cheated on him, he just gave up and they broke up. I never told him. It would have broken him. Gabe's strong, but if he knew he had messed it all up, the engagement, he would have been ruined."

"That's so tragic," said Dean with empathy. He paused for a while, but then added, "He should be having a major burnout at this moment... but yet he's going out...? Why is that?"

"Gabe's in denial. There's nothing I can do. I tired and tried. He's stubborn and doesn't listen to anyone. He never listens to my suggestions. He never even listens to me, _his own brother_."

Dean dropped his glass on the table and leaned his back on the couch, looking at Steve. "This is nice," he whispered, changing subjects again. He knew Steve didn't like talking about Gabriel. He cared about him, even if they was something happening between them two.

Dean wanted to know, but he didn't want to push Steve into telling him.

"It is," Steve answered slowly. He tried not to look at Dean.

Dean felt this strange hole in his stomach.

He couldn't tell if it felt _good_ or _bad__, _but he could only focus on it. His breathing was loud and his heart was pounding. He couldn't blink, Steve's eyes were so hypnotizing. At least, he got the blue-eyed man to look at him in the eye.

Steve didn't blink as well, he stared in Dean's hazel green eyes, passing his tongue on his lips to wet them.


End file.
